


You've Always Had Me

by MaraGiggles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A Happy Ending, Angst, F/M, Moving On, So yeah, Then, but its already done, for a bit, happy!reader, i say major character death, it was Sam's 'death', maybe fluff? idk fluffs not my thing, okay, sad!reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 17:49:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17309093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaraGiggles/pseuds/MaraGiggles
Summary: It’s been a little over three years since you lost your boyfriend to the pit with Lucifer.  There isn’t a day that goes by where you don’t think of the man you would always love.  You thought you’d lost him forever, until an all too familiar voice disturbs your after-hunt wind-down.





	You've Always Had Me

“What can I get’cha, honey?” asked the sweet little blonde behind the bar, resting her elbow on the bar with a smile as sweet as her face. 

“Whiskey, straight,” you grumbled, your entire body aching. The waitress raised her eyebrows but said nothing as she swept away to get your well-earned drink. The ghost you’d just dealt with had been a nasty one, and had almost killed you as you’d salted his bones.

As soon as the glass was placed before you, you lifted it to your lips and downed it in one go. “Another,” you demanded, sliding the glass back to the waitress. 

“Rough day?” she asked, instantly pouring you another drink.

You glanced up, wondering if you were in the mood to ruin the poor girl’s life. There weren’t many who knew the truth about the demons and monsters and ghosts that walked your world. After a second of silent deliberation, you decided against it. “You could say that.” 

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.” 

She seemed to get the hint then, raising her hands in surrender and smiling softly. “Fair enough. Gimme a shout when you’re ready for another.” And then she walked away. 

The bar was by no means full, but boy was it loud. Good, you thought sullenly, focusing on the noise around you rather than your own failings. You’d got the ghost… but not before he’d killed another kid. Can’t win ‘em all…

As you drank your pain away, like you often did after a particularly rough hunt, you let your mind wander. You’d been hunting solo for near on three years, ever since your boyfriend had fallen into the pit with Lucifer. That day still haunted your dreams. Nearly every night you woke, screaming for the man you still loved even now as the ground swallowed him up. 

It had taken you less than two weeks to realise you couldn’t keep your last promise to him. You’d tried, god how you’d tried to have a normal life. Dean seemed to fall into the pattern easier than you had. Without Sam, you didn’t want a normal life. You didn’t want anything without him. 

The worst part about it all was the fact you’d never managed to tell him you loved him. You’d been too afraid, even though you knew he loved you back. He’d told you all the time, and you’d only ever responded with a pathetic ‘I know…’ It had taken losing him to realise you had always loved him, and you always would. 

You’d never hated yourself more. 

That’s what made you leave Dean behind, despite him begging you to keep trying. He had Lisa, and Ben, but you had no one. You couldn’t bring yourself to even look for love elsewhere. Sam was the only man you had ever loved, and that would never change. You hadn’t seen Dean since you’d left, but you knew he’d tried calling. Eventually you got a new number, and the calls stopped. You never once listened to the voicemails.

Sometimes, instead of dreaming about the day you lost him, you’d dream about him being trapped in the cage with Lucifer and Michael. Eternal punishment, that’s what you thought the love of your life was suffering through right in that moment. You glanced down at your drink, suddenly feeling disgusted with yourself. How could you sit there drinking with Sam suffering for all eternity? Unfortunately, you’d had this argument with yourself too many times to count. There was nothing you could do, besides drink and hunt until you couldn’t drink or hunt anymore. 

“…not my fault the Sherriff’s a douche.”

So lost in your own misery, at first the familiar voice behind you didn’t register. It took a few moments for the voice to sink in, and when it did, you froze in your seat. No… no he couldn’t be here. He should be back with Lisa and Ben, not sitting at some dive bar halfway across the country. By his words, you knew for a fact he was working on a case.

Part of you started to wonder why he’d left Lisa and Ben, but you didn’t get very far down that road. You were just starting to think you could slip out before he recognised you when you heard another voice that almost shattered you.

“You didn’t have to be so rude to him, Dean.” Sam. It couldn’t be. Sam was gone, locked in the cage, he couldn’t be sitting behind you with his brother. But when you turned in your seat, unable to help yourself, you saw a sight you hadn’t even been able to dream of. Sam was back.

For a full five minutes you just stared, unable to work out if this was real or a dream. Surely if Sam had come back Dean would have told you, right? You’d forgotten you had ignored his calls.

And then he shifted, his head turning in your direction, your eyes connecting almost instantly. You watched the smile fade from his face, watched his beautiful eyes widen in surprise as his lips parted. 

“Y/N…?”

And just like that your world shattered. Dean stood with Sam, both staring at you like you were a ghost. But you weren’t the ghost here, Sam was. He’s back… how is he back…? Tears filled your eyes as Sam took slow, hesitant steps towards you. The bar seemed to grow quiet, as if everyone had stopped to watch this exchange, as if the whole world knew how important this moment was.

“Is it… is it really you?” he asked, as if you were the one who had been thrown into the cage. His hands found your arms, a smile forming on his perfect lips as he studied your face. “I thought… Dean said you were gone…”

You glanced behind him to Dean, who was watching you with concern. Your voice wouldn’t work, your mind running in circles as you looked back at the man who shouldn’t be there. 

“Y/N, say something…” whispered Sam, his smile fading as he watched you gape at him. You shook your head, the tears rolling down your cheeks. This wasn’t real. It had to be a dream. And you couldn’t deal. “Y/N!”

Without a backward glance you took off, tears clouding your vision as you rushed for your car. It’s not real you told yourself, trying to shut out the sounds of him calling your name. He’s not real! It’s a demon or something, run! 

Whoever or whatever he was caught you as you reached your car, his hand wrapping around your arm and jerking you to a halt. Your eyes wandered over the car lot, landing on the shiny black Impala parked two spaces down before he turned you to face him. 

“Please don’t run away,” he sighed sadly, his jaw clenching. You knew him well enough to know he was struggling not to cry himself. You didn’t bother holding back your own tears.

“You’re not real,” you sobbed, staring up into those gorgeous hazel eyes you loved so much. You breath came heavier, your heart pounding in your chest. He was so close you could feel the heat radiating off his body. Dean came out behind him, watching the two of you closely. “You’re dead…”

‘I’m not dead, Y/N,” he said softly, bending down a little so he was eye-level with you. His large, calloused hand reached up, slowly, as if he expected you to pull away. But you couldn’t move a muscle, could only stare into his eyes, waiting for them to turn black or something. As soon as his hand pressed against your cheek you sighed, closing your eyes and leaning into his touch. “It’s really me. I’m here.”

“I-I saw you,” you sobbed, his hand burning the skin on your arm and face. “I saw you fall…” Dean should have told me…

Then you remembered his insistent calling about two years ago. Recalled how he’d messaged and called you a thousand times in the space of two weeks before you got a new number. He’d tried to tell you, and in your grief you’d ignored him. Now you couldn’t take your eyes off Sam, couldn’t move save to blink.

“I’m back, Y/N,” he repeated, his other hand coming up to cup your other cheek. A small smile tugged at his lips, but all you could do was sob. “I got out. I came looking for you as soon as I could, I swear. But Dean…” he glanced back at his brother.

“You promised you’d stay in touch,” grunted Dean angrily, his eyes locked on you. “When your phone went dead I just assumed the worst. I had no way to contact you.”

“I didn’t want you to find me,” you managed to get out, turning your eyes back to the man before you. His face showed his pain, a stray tear leaking from his eye to roll down his cheek slowly. You were beginning to believe. To have hope that this was real, that your Sam was really back. 

Your hands moved of their own accord, reaching up to caress his cheeks. You had to touch him, had to know he was really standing before you. The second your fingers made contact with his clean-shaven cheek you laughed. Less than a second later a smile lit up Sam’s face, more tears escaping his eyes.

“You’re real…” you whispered, forgetting for the moment that the two of you stood in a public car lot. There were a few other people watching besides Dean, but you didn’t care. They didn’t exist for you in that moment, only you and Sam did. 

“Yes, I’m real,” he replied, a slight sob-slash-chuckle bubbling up his throat as his thumbs wiped away your tears. “I thought you were dead, Y/N… I thought I’d lost you…”

“You’ve always had me,” you replied, your hand moving to the back of his neck to pull him down into a kiss. Sam didn’t hesitate in kissing you back, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you flush with his body. You tangled your hands in his hair, longer than you remembered, feeling the silky strands slip between your fingers.

Suddenly you were falling, slipping back through time to before he’d sacrificed himself. It was like nothing had ever changed, and you never wanted that moment to end. All too soon Sam pulled away, his eyes shining in the dim street lamps. The smile on his face was so radiant you couldn’t help but smile back, love filling the hole in your heart for the first time in years.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered softly, his hands moving down to your hips as he drank you in. His eyes roamed over your face, studying every inch, while you did the same to him. He was older, had more stress on his shoulders than you remembered, but he was still your Sam. Your smile grew as you leant up on your tippy toes to press a loving kiss to the tip of his nose.

“I love you, too, Sam. I always have.”


End file.
